The Haircut


A guy walked into a barbershop and sat in the chair.

The barber asked, “Are you going anywhere on vacation this year?”

The guy replied, “Yes actually, my wife and I are going to Italy.”

The barber said, “Why you going there? It’s rubbish!”

“Well, the weather is supposed to be nice,” answered the guy.

The barber replied, “Well, when me and my wife went to Italy a few years ago it pissed down rain every day we were there.”

The guy said, “Well, I hear the food is nice.”

The barber laughed. “When me and the wife went the stuff they gave us was almost inedible.”

The guy said, “Um, well, we’d really like to see the Roman architecture.”

“You’ll be lucky,” said the barber. “They’re doing the place up. Tarpaulin and scaffolding everywhere. Can’t see a thing!”

Frustrated, the guy turned to him and said, “Okay mate, I’ll square it with you. The wife and I, we’re Catholic. And we’d really like to go to the Vatican and see the Pope.”

The barber quickly answer. “Well, me and the wife are also Catholic. And we wanted to see the Pope too. But when we went to St Peter’s Square, we were crammed in l with a million other Catholics and when he was on the balcony, all you could see was the tip of his hat. Honestly. Don’t go to Italy.”

A month passed and the guy returned to the barbershop and sat in the same chair.

The barber said, “Oh yeah, weren’t you the guy who was going to Italy?”

“Yes I am,” replied the guy. “And I have some issues to raise with you. Firstly, the sun was splitting the trees every day, the weather was amazing.

Secondly, the food, pizza, and pasta was incredible.

Thirdly, you said we wouldn’t be able to see the Roman architecture. In fact, we could touch it. It was astounding to be so close to ancient history.”

“Ah,” said the barber, “but did you see the Pope?”

“Well yes,” said the guy. “We did go to St. Peter’s Square and we were crammed in there with a million other Catholics, and when the Pope came out all we could see was the tip of his hat.

We were disappointed. But then his hands came out over the balcony and pointed to our section of the crowd, and everyone began murmuring and I was like, ‘What’s going on?!’

Then the Pope came out into the square flanked by his Swiss Guard and he began his making way into the crowd, which parted before him like the Red Sea.

The crowd began to grow excited and I could see he was coming in our direction.

Then suddenly the folks in front of us moved and there was the Pope, the Bishop of Rome, standing before us, looking at ME!

Then the Holy Father himself reached out, gently took my hand and gazing at me intently he asked, ‘Who the FUCK cut your hair?’”

RC DeWinter


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